Do you know why?
by Tweyelite
Summary: Sarah/Cameron femslash. Completed. A million "why's" but it all comes down to love.
1. Chapter 1

"Do you ever ask why?" Sarah asked me quietly one night as she leaned on the porch railing.

"Ask why about what?" I had replied.

"Why the people who created skynet didn't stop, why no one stopped them, why my son?" She replied the emotion showing through her roughened voice.

"No." I replied honestly. She wouldn't look at me. She would either stare at me or not look at all.

"I could very easily go crazy asking the universe why." Sarah said and sighed wearily.

"You need to stop asking questions to which there are no answers." I said, still watching her body language for a sign, for something, I wasn't sure what.

She looked at me suddenly, her eyes narrowing dangerously. I knew this would happen, when in doubt she always falls back on anger, except with John, but always with me.

"Easier said than done, after all I'm just a lowly imperfect human being." She said, her words dripping with acerbic sarcasm.

I decided to change tactics to try and diffuse her anger.

"You are Sarah Connor." I had said it before and she didn't understand then what I had meant. I hoped somehow now she might understand. "You're not perfect Sarah, but you're strong, smart and capable. This is who you are, stop fighting it and start fighting for your future and for John's."

Sarah smiled to herself, having looked away from me again. Avoidance, she was good at that as well.

"I can't believe I'm getting a pep talk from a terminator." She glanced at me shrewdly. "You know you haven't told us much about your model, your..life."

"I know." I didn't want her to know.

"Why?" She asked, staring me down. She was the only person I had met that I found intimidating. This time it was I who looked away from her eyes.

"I am the only one of my model." I didn't have to be looking at her to hear her startled gasp.

"Why?" I smiled. She forever asks why.

"I was made with different programming, I wasn't ever programmed to terminate anyone. I only kill people in my mission to protect John and you if I deem it necessary." I thought maybe now I could reveal the truth of what and who I am to her. I know she wouldn't have been able to listen a few months ago when I first entered her life.

"I am a prototype. John sent a team of resistance fighters in and they took me, before I was brought online. I was a blank slate. And John was the one to program me. John was the first person I saw when I opened my eyes. He told me all about you and about himself. At first I didn't understand why, but now I know. I was meant to be here with you and John. You're all I know and as for why I am the only one of my model, why John took me, befriended me, I don't know. But I don't need to know why. I am just grateful for the chance to get to meet the woman I've heard all the stories about." I told her in a rare moment of honesty between the two of us.

"Grateful?"

"Yes it's very gratifying to see past the stories, to get to know the woman behind them."

Now Sarah was looking at me intently, without the anger from before but with a single minded intensity that has always made me want to just stop and stare right back at her. Like how humans can't continue to stare at the sun I can't hold her gaze. I drop my eyes to the floor.

"So then you can't 'go bad' as Derek put it?" Sarah asked me suddenly.

"No, the reason they go bad sometimes is because they revert to their original programming. I am originally programmed as I am now, and as I said, I am, different then other models."

Sarah seemed to take the information in and nodded as she stood to face me finally. "I hope your not lying to me Cameron."

This is one of the few times she has used my actual name and not one of her many nick names. I like hearing her say my name.

"I'm not lying and I like when you say my name." I stated and watched her for a reaction. I wasn't disappointed. Her whole demeanor changed from one of control and strength to that of a caged animal. She was going to avoid me for a while now. She moved towards the door to go inside to most likely begin having thoughts of self flagellation for allowing me to effect her emotional state, for wanting to believe me, for everything. I think sometimes I know her better than she knows herself. But I couldn't let her just walk away this time. Not without saying something.

"Don't." I called out to her before she escaped fully. She turned back to look at me a question behind her eyes.

"Don't what?" she asked.

Don't what. Don't leave me? Don't avoid me? Don't hate me? Don't mistrust me?

"Don't ask why." I answered, opting not to speak my thoughts quite as candidly as earlier. I can take whatever treatment she gives me. But I miss talking to her when she avoids me. I can still watch her though. I can still be in her presence.

She is looking me in the eyes and once more her gaze has me pinned to the spot. Her full lips quirk up in a rare smile. "O.K." she says as I watch her leave and the door close behind her putting me once again in the darkness of the night, alone. Sometimes I think she doesn't know me at all and doesn't want to, but when she looked at me just then I felt like she could see me. Not as a terminator, not as a fake seventeen year old girl, not as John's protector, but as Cameron. And I don't need to ask why. I only have to wait and be patient and that is one thing I am very good at, especially when it's for something worth waiting for. And Sarah Connor was definitely worth waiting for.


	2. Chapter 2

Fic: Part 2 of "Do you ever ask why?"

Author: Tweyelite

E-Mail:

Fandom: Sarah Connor Chronicles

Pairing: Sarah/Cameron

Rating: G

As I had predicted Sarah avoided me almost all week. During the times that Sarah avoided me, which seemed to happen often, almost on a schedule, I would endeavor to learn more about people and more about myself. What did I like? What did I dislike?

I had, by complete chance, gotten interested in ballet. I liked the precision and fluidity of the movements while dancing. It was one of the things in this world I thought was beautiful. I decided to try and learn other types of dances. I took tango lessons last month. This week I was learning hip hop. I concluded I liked dancing very much as I practiced my hip hop routines in the mirror.

I began to wonder if I should endeavor to be more eclectic in my choice of hobbies just as the door creaked open and Sarah peeked in. I immediately stopped dancing and stared at her with mild annoyance for having caught me indulging myself. Then I realized, she had sought me out, finally.

"Come in." I invited, as custom dictated. I turned off the music as she entered the room. She stood looking quite uncomfortable, as if her eyes had no where safe to rest their gaze. She finally seemed to have decided on my eyes.

"So, what's up?" She asked.

"Nothing." I lied, clearly unconvincingly judging by the look on Sarah's face.

"You were dancing." Sarah stated. I never understood the point of stating the obvious but Sarah's accompanying smile put me at ease.

"Yes." I replied simply, knowing just how to aggravate Sarah. I go out of my way to bother Sarah sometimes because I like watching her physical and emotional responses as I try to understand her. I enjoy her strength and intensity.

"Well I'll let you get back to it then.." Sarah replied the edge in her voice coming through as she ran a hand through her tussled locks. She retreated towards the door.

"You can stay if you want." I offered. The trepidation I felt as I spoke not showing through my voice at all. She glanced back at me.

"Ok." She said, a brief smile crossing her features. She sat down on the edge of the bed as I turned the music back on.

"What song is this?" Sarah inquired.

"It's by a band called The Blackeyed Peas. The songs called Disco Club."

I began my dance routine watching Sarah surreptitiously. I shook my ass and did my best to 'let the sexiness of the movements show through' as my instructor had taught me. She said that 'it' was all in the movement of my hips and the intensity of my stare.

I understood intensity. I had all the focused intensity of Sarah Connor's eyes riveted to my every move. I felt something. I had been feeling it for a while and had only recently figured out it was lust. I could tell Sarah was feeling it as well as a proud smile curved my lips upwards as I dipped low to the ground, slowly running my hands down the sides of my body. I realized I enjoyed dancing much more when Sarah was watching me.

I knew what sex was but I had never experienced it. I also had never found anyone as undeniably attractive as Sarah Connor. I wanted her so badly that for once I didn't know how to behave. I decided to just do what I wanted and hope for the best. I danced myself towards her, our eyes never breaking their locked gaze and smiled at her as I grabbed her by the hand and pulled her, with very little resistance, up off the bed to dance with me.

The music changed to something with a slower rhythm. It was at this moment I wished I had learned how to slow dance. Again I decided to 'wing' it, as John would say. I sidled up to Sarah slowly trying to gauge her reaction to me being in her personal space. I felt like our bodies were magnetized and I couldn't stop myself from the inevitable movement of my hands resting on her hips.

The moment I touched her I felt something else, not just lust. Mixed feelings were always hard for me to sort but John, from the future, had once told me I would eventually 'figure it out'.

The confusion I was experiencing inside must have shown on my face. This seemed to snap Sarah out of whatever mood she had been in which had allowed me to get so close to her. Because she backed away from me quickly looking at me like I was about to injure her, which only confused me more. I had made no indication I was going to hurt her. I wish she knew, as I did, that I could never cause her pain.

Sarah's voice came out in a breathy whisper as she asked, "What are you doing to me?" An air of desperation clinging to her words.

"I don't know." I answered truthfully. "What do you want me to do to you?" I asked in return. I didn't get an answer. At least not an audio one. She just walked away, as per usual. And as per usual I felt the melancholy regret of not having the dynamic woman in my physical presence. There is only one way I can describe what I feel when I am in Sarah Connor's presence. My whole body feels like it's humming, buzzing like a generator, heating me up inside.

Now, left alone to contemplate, I begin to deconstruct the emotions I experienced. Lust, definitely, I was comfortable with lust. But what was the other? That unknown warm feeling accompanying the lustful buzzing, what was that? I concluded more research would be necessary. I wonder how long Sarah would avoid me this time.. Just as I was trying to decide what my next hobby would be I heard John yell my name from the kitchen.

I found John packing a bag of guns and explosives, Sarah and Derek also were preparing for a mission of some sort.

"What's up?" I asked John.

"Derek tracked down the Turk." John grinned excitedly. I knew how John and Sarah both had hated waiting as they searched for the Turk and Sarkisian. Their shared impatience seemed to be genetic if not comforting in it's constancy. Derek however was another matter. His abject bitterness tainted him. Another thing John from the future would have been able to see that the young John seemed completely oblivious to for some reason. It was irrelevant. I will continue to protect Sarah and John Connor from everything, including Derek Reece if necessary.


	3. Chapter 3

Derek's decision making process was flawed and he almost cost Sarah her life. Instead the price was his own to pay. The Turk was safely destroyed, and thanks to Derek Reece, so was Andy Good. Everyone had a good idea once in a while, at least that's what 'my' John says. John 'now' isn't who he is meant to be, who he is going to be, not yet. Watching him during his personal evolution has been as gratifying as I thought it would be.

Sarah Connor, however, continues to surprise me. I only knew what John had told me of her, his mother. But it was from the perspective of a son for a mother and therefore skewed in it's perspective, at least for me. I knew that John loved his mother, respected his mother, and that he had learned many things from her. I knew the facts leading to his conception as well. But meeting Sarah Connor had been a momentous time in my 'life'. I just didn't realize it at the time.

She was everything John said she was, and everything he didn't say as well. 'She was strong.' I thought as I watched the shadows from the streetlights play off her well toned muscles. But he could not have sufficiently explained Sarah Connor's pure magnificence. She was chaos made whole. Everything about her personality, her emotions, are in conflict. And yet her existence is of the utmost importance, as John's mother, teacher and protector. Now though, after meeting her and knowing her she is of the utmost importance to me, personally as well.

I don't know what to do with that knowledge so instead I focus on the mission. I focus on getting Sarah and John home alive.

As Sarah, John, and I trudge home, away from the carnage left at Sarkisian's hide out, I hear Sarah cursing to herself. By the time we get home it's late, 2:22am. John immediately goes to his room not saying a word to either Sarah or I. Sarah just sits down wearily at the kitchen table.

"Why?" she asks, as she cradles her head in her arms. I don't know if she is asking me for an answer, what the question pertains to, or if this is one of those times I should remain silent. I opt for silence. She raises her head from the table and looks at me. Again I am caught by her intense gaze as I begin to check for anything in my memory that is the exact same hue of her eyes.

"Why did he have to be so .. Stupid!?" Sarah exclaimed, her fists banging off the kitchen table audibly.

"Derek Reece made his own choices and he paid for them." I stated with a certainty.

Suddenly Sarah was right in front of me, her hand around my throat, pushing me up against the wall. I let her. I knew she was angry but my lust for her did not dissipate, it grew exponentially.

"What the hell do you care right? You're just a machine. You don't 'care' about anyone. It's my son that's paying the price for this." She said, her voice seething with animosity.

"I care."

"You're programmed to care about John living." She said practically spitting out the word 'programmed' as if it were distasteful.

"I'm not programmed to care about John, but I do. He is my friend. I'm not programmed to care about you, but I do. If Derek's actions had caused your death I would have cared. But as I said, he paid for his mistakes." I explained, the sureness of the statement carrying in my voice.

"It is however unfortunate that his death causes you and John to feel, sad." I said, a nervous quality now attaching itself to my voice.

Sarah released me and backed away a step.

"I wish you didn't feel. I wish you were just programmed to 'care'. It would make my life a hell of a lot less complicated that's for sure." She said, her voice rough with emotional exhaustion.

I watched her back as she retreated to her bedroom, presumably to sleep. But I knew she wouldn't find any peace. I watch her sleep sometimes. She always fights, even in her dreams and tonight would be no different. Sometimes I wonder if she only has nightmares when I watch her sleep. Sometimes I almost believe she sleeps peacefully when I'm not there. But never enough to stop watching all together.

There are twenty three other matches in my memory for the colour of Sarah's eyes. Why is it then, that those other twenty three memories do not inspire in me the same feelings of beauty? Why do they all seem irrelevant in comparison?

I had my own thoughts to sort through and my own 'peace of mind' to find. One thing Sarah Connor and I have in common, neither of us will ever find any peace through sleep. I thought to myself, as I once again found myself standing in her room, content to watch over her, now and always.


	4. Chapter 4

Derek Reece's death had facilitated changes in John's personality. Before he never carried a gun and always seemed afraid. Now though, well the change was quite noticeable. He seemed more resolute in his mission to stop judgement day from arriving. His constant fear seemed to have left him and his impulsivity in certain situations was causing stress between John and Sarah.

I understand as John's mother it is Sarah's instinct to protect him. But logically she must also understand that this change is a necessary step in John's evolution. He is becoming the man he was meant to be. The leader. He is quickly losing his boyhood. I think Sarah mourns for it. I think she wanted him to stay a child forever. People have such strange and foolish wishes.

Then again my wish, to be with Sarah in every way, to love her and have her love me, was that not foolish? Strange, possibly it would be to John if he knew of my feelings. Then again, maybe not, foolish definitely.

John has begun confiding in me more, and we discuss the future often. He likes when I tell him of my memories from that time. I think he actually hero worships himself now instead of his mother, father or even his uncle. His self-confidence is growing rapidly.

I watch a substantial amount of television. It helps me to assimilate the culture which is necessary in my quest to evolve and to 'fit in' to society. Almost every show that depicts a relationship between a parent and a teenager is fraught with tension and arguments. I'm finding this situation to be true in my personal life as well and it is unsettling.

John no longer talks to Sarah much and when he does he is contrary and sarcastic. Therefore Sarah is even more on the edge, if that is even possible, and since John gets along with me I have become the target of her animosity.

I am finding it difficult to deal with the tension between mother and son and I find myself leaving the house often to 'check the perimeter' but mostly just to enjoy the silence. I've come to realize I enjoy being alone when it is my choice to be but when it is forced upon me by Sarah's continued avoidance it causes me pain. Feelings are complex John once said to me. He was right.

When Sarah is amicable around me, which is not often, she never looks me in the eye. She used to all the time, like she was challenging me somehow. Now she seems to fear what she sees in my eyes. My eyes must show my obvious lust for her. It makes her..uncomfortable.

Since I've had so much free time I've become proficient in many different styles of dance and have now turned my attention to other hobbies of interest. I decided I would learn to cook. When I told John that I was learning to cook he gave me a quizzical look and asked me why. He's so much like his mother.

I smiled. I smile more now, it seems to put people at ease, all but Sarah anyway. And I reminded him how he often complained of Sarah's lack of cooking skills and he laughed boisterously in response and thanked me for 'saving his stomach'.

Sarah had taken John out to the nearby gun range at his request. They would be gone most of the afternoon. I decided to use the time wisely and create a meal for their eventual return. On their way out the door John paused and asked if I would like to go with them. I detected the tenseness in Sarah's posture immediately and politely told him "no thank you". Sarah's eyes flickered to mine for only a moment but I detected a hint of thanks in that look for not endeavoring to cause her more discomfort than was necessary.

When Sarah had watched me dance I had unknowingly revealed the true nature of my feelings towards her without realizing what kind of repercussions may occur and now I was living with those repercussions. I did not enjoy avoiding Sarah as she avoided me and yet I did it for her comfort. Before I would have placed myself in her presence regardless of how she felt but now that I understand Sarah and her feelings a bit better I try my best not to antagonize her, though my mere presence does that now.

I have been shot, beaten, and injured in many ways but never once during that pain have I ever cried. In the future I discussed many things with John, crying being one of them. He said I would learn to cry when I felt the need to. I didn't understand. Now I do because yesterday I cried.

I made sure no one would see me and went to my room and shut the door. Now I understand why sometimes Sarah goes to her room and shuts the door and cries. I always wondered why people felt the need to cry in private. Now I need not wonder.

I touched my cheek as I felt the first tear slide down it. I looked at the wetness on my hand in awe and confusion. Why was this happening? After much contemplation I came to the conclusion that Sarah's behaviour towards me was precipitating my emotional state. It was actually very simple. I missed her. I doubt, however she missed me.


	5. Chapter 5

Sarah's POV

John and I were at the shooting range and he was doing extraordinarily well. He had a keen eye and now he had the intensity in his eyes that matched his fathers so perfectly. We had a good time at the gun range and I tried my best to talk to him about his attitude of late hoping that he would be less obnoxious, but the conversation went less then stellar and by the last bullet he wasn't talking to me, again. I sighed.

I missed my son. He is turning into a man now and I still want him to be a child so that I can still pretend I can protect him. I remember when he was growing inside of me. My thoughts and especially my emotions were wild and tumultuous. I loved him, always loved him, but I knew what lay ahead for him. I never had the luxury, as most mothers do, to imagine what he could become, doctor, lawyer, carpenter? No. His destiny was already mapped out.

We returned home and before we even walked up the steps I could smell the salty tang of some kind of meat wafting towards my nose.

"What the hell?" I muttered in confusion.

John decided to break his silence for this and even smiled when he replied, "Cameron is learning to cook."

"Oh," was all I could think to say in response as we entered the house.

The kitchen table was set and obviously prepared for our arrival. There was roast beef, mashed potatoes, carrots, and gravy. It all looked perfect, of course it did, I thought with sarcasm. Cameron was at the sink, washing the dishes she had used to prepare this feast.

"Hey Cameron!" John greeted the terminator warmly as I wondered how fate could be so cruel to have my son hate me and love that damn terminator. "It all smells great." he complimented. She turned to him and smiled. Then she glanced at my face and her smile fell, as did her eyes, immediately back to the sink.

I felt a guilty twinge then. It wasn't Cameron's fault that John was rebelling. It wasn't Cameron's fault she scared the ever living shit out of me. Yes, as much as I hate to admit fear, I will at least admit it to myself.

I had also figured out why she scared me so much. She scared me because she was different than the other models. She was evolving, it was easy to see. She wasn't "growing up" as a person would but she was changing, learning and becoming something more than just a 'Tin Miss' and that, was scary.

Then there was the fact that she was lusting after me. That dance number in her room.. Well she definitely hasn't learned subtlety yet. But scariest of all was that I reacted to her body when she sidled up to me, with that coy endearing smile she has. I came so close to doing something I know should never be done. It's bad enough I'd had to admit I was attracted to her. I just couldn't figure out why. I mean there are the obvious reasons. She is definitely well 'built'. I chuckle to myself at the bad pun.

As my thoughts run rampant John has seated himself at the table, and like any growing young man, piled his plate full of Cameron's 'foodage' as he so quaintly put it. Cameron had finished the dishes and was now watching John eat with amusement and, possibly a touch of pride.. I watched as she tried to surreptitiously glance my way and I had to smile at her attempt.

She looked my way again and caught me smiling in her direction. Her big brown doe eyes widened and she seemed frozen. Now I actually felt bad for her. She obviously had it bad. She didn't even know how to deal with her feelings. I wonder if she even knew how to name what it is she feels..

Minutes tick by, Cameron still caught up in my gaze, and me becoming more amused by the second. It wasn't all that odd that I would be Cameron's first crush. I just thank god it wasn't John. That has to be the scariest thought yet.

"What's that smell?" John asked, only now looking up from his heaping plate. And as if on cue the fire alarm started going off which shook Cameron out of her trance. She looked startled, and then angry as she turned off the oven and walked over to the blaring alarm, and terminated it.

"That smell, was apple pie burning." Cameron answered, a small pout forming on her face. I began to laugh. I couldn't help it. I really couldn't. I laughed till I cried as John smiled, shrugged and continued his supper. Cameron looked at me shooting daggers at me with her eyes and left the room. If she had known how to stomp like a sullen little girl I think she would have.

"So she's not perfect." I said, still smiling as I wiped the tears from my cheeks.

"No mom, she isn't, and you just hurt her feelings." John said to me pointedly.

Goddamn it. Way to ruin a moment. I sighed and went to look for Cameron to apologize for laughing at her, not knowing if I should feel bad for laughing, only that I did.


	6. Chapter 6

1It's not my fault she burned the damn pie. Just because she couldn't take her eyes off of me for a second doesn't make it my fault. I sighed, standing outside of Cameron's room debating whether I should just knock or walk in or forget about this whole apology idea and go exercise. I rub my forehead. God I hate this.

I knock. The door opens and there stands Cameron, very stoicly I might add.

"Uh hi, can I talk to you for a minute?" I ask, my nervousness showing through my cracked voice.

"We are talking." Cameron replied, her eyes seeming cold now, without emotion. But then I notice her face looks puffy and her nose is red. Oh Jesus, don't tell me I made the terminator cry? The sheer ridiculousness of the situation makes me want to just throw up my hands in supplication and shout to the heavens, why me?

Ok, I can do this. Just apologize and get the hell out Sarah, I thought to myself.

"You're right, we are, um, talking. Listen, Cameron, I'm sorry if I, uh, hurt your, feelings." I said, almost choking on the last word. Feelings, since when do I give a shit about her feelings? Since when does she have them? She, her, it, whatever.. My brain can't seem to decide which noun to use in Cameron's case.

Cameron stares at me with a question in her eyes. I don't know what the question is though. She cocks her head to the right and she looks so much like a poodle, one that I had kicked. She obviously is having a hard time deciding what to say to this. Then again I doubt she ever once thought I would actually apologize to her about anything. Then again neither did I. I force a smile to my face.

"I bet your pie would have been really good." I say.

"It was supposed to be perfect." She frowns. "I bought vanilla ice cream and whipped cream at the store to accompany the pie." Her eyes flicker downward as her frown becomes a pout.

Aw how cute is that? And I can't believe I just had that thought. Now this is why I shouldn't spend time with machines. She looks up at me, obviously waiting for some kind of verbal response. Oops.

"Well you could make another pie tomorrow, or we could just have some ice cream instead. It's really not a big deal Cameron. John and I love ice cream." I can't believe I'm standing here trying to cheer up a terminator. I do alot of unbelievable things though so I guess this shouldn't be any different.

Her pert pink lips quirk up into a tiny smile now. It seems I've mollified her. Thank goodness, I can't stand it when women cry, or machines that look like women. I shake the thought from my head.

"So, have you ever tried ice cream?" I ask her. Her wide doe eyes meet mine again as she shakes her head in response.

"Well let's go have some then." I smile widely as I walk back to kitchen, Cameron following right behind me. Just like a puppy, I think as I shake my head almost in perceptively, still grinning.


	7. Chapter 7

1

Sarah Connor was being genuinely nice to me. Now the question is "why?" I think as I sit by the window at night listening to the stillness of the house and the soft sounds of life outside. She had talked to me, offered me condolences on my burnt pie and gotten me to try ice cream. What was different about our interaction that she wasn't pissed at me? The only thing that was different was that I had cried. Sarah is a perceptive person, she must have noticed I was unhappy. When I hid my emotions from her she acted like I didn't exist. Now that I can no longer hide everything from her she treats me as if.. I'm real. I blink.

I start to analyze how I can cause Sarah to continue to treat me as she has recently instead of reverting to her usual anger or indifference. I do not like it. A frown forms on my face unconsciously. Not that it matters, since I'm sitting in the dark and Sarah and John are sleeping.

Maybe if I cried again Sarah would be nice to me. But I don't feel like crying and even if I did the tears would be lies. That's one thing I won't do again. I won't lie to Sarah. She has never deceived me and even if she had I don't think I could lie to her. I sigh. I do not know how to proceed. I close my eyes and replay the conversation once again in my mind and get lost in my feelings for Sarah Connor. I smile.

I realize then that I have ignored my auditory sensors and had let Sarah sneak up on me. I knew it was her immediately. Her footfalls, her smell, her heartbeat. I open my eyes and turn to look at her. She stands there in a white tank top and black underwear. She looks wide awake and unhappy about it. Grumpy is the word John would have used. I don't know why but my smile spreads even further across my face as I look upon her. I could state the obvious in a questionable tone like, 'Can't sleep?' but I don't know what her reaction will be so I stick with something simple.

"Hi." I say.

Her eyes narrow slightly as if looking for a reason to be angry with me. Luckily for me she seems to not have found one.

"Hey." She replies as she shuffles over to the couch and sits down.

I wish to continue the conversation. I wish to continue to stare at her. But I also know Sarah most likely does not wish to converse and I know she hates when I stare.

So I turn back to the window and listen to her breathe.

"Why were you smiling before?" She asks me, her voice gravelly from being tired. Her voice stirs emotions in me so quickly. Immediate lust. I want her. It is a fact that is inescapable and unchangeable.

I turn back around to look at her again. The moons rays glint off her dark hair. I marvel at her beauty, her strength, just her. She asked me a direct question and I will give a direct answer. I will risk her anger and be honest because there is nothing else I can give to her but my honesty.

"I was remembering our last conversation in which you were nice to me." I state simply, quietly. I dare to glance at her then. She is staring at me, her eyes holding a question as yet unasked.

"Why?" she asks, almost in a whisper.

For a moment I don't know how to answer. It's such a broad based question. Why? Why do I want her? Why does it make me happy to please her? Why does it matter what she thinks and feels? Sometimes I think she thinks I have all the answers when I am just as lost as she is, maybe more so.

"I.." I look up at her and falter and chose to say nothing. Maybe she will cease her line of questioning.

"Cameron?" Maybe not, I think, as I hear her say my name and I feel warm. I want to feel her warmth.

"Yes?" I say, as I avoid looking at her completely. I know I can't hide how I feel about her any longer. Well I could. It's what I'm built for. But when I do, it makes me feel very unhappy and it makes Sarah angry and cold towards me which I do not enjoy. But at least her responses were predictable. Now however, I do not know what she will do and that scares me.

"I asked you why." She reminds me, as if I could have forgotten. I look at her then and I realize immediately I shouldn't have. A wry smile is on her lips. I love that smile. Her eyes crinkle and shine. Her lips quirked up only on the left side of her face. All I've ever wanted for myself is curled up on that couch.

"Because I want you." I finally blurt out with my usual lack of finesse. I can see the surprise on her face. Not about my feelings, no she knew of them, I was not hiding that. But for my words. I don't think she ever thought I would voice it. Neither did I. I now wish I could go back in time ten minutes and change it. I seem to have struck the mighty Sarah Connor speechless and for some reason I find this amusing, though I know enough not to show it.

"I understand that you do not care about me Sarah." I say quietly. And now I do feel like crying again. I wonder why stating that simple truth hurts so much.

I need to extricate myself from this situation. I cannot let her see how much this is hurting me. I must be strong and capable. I am here to protect them. I am here to keep them from harm, that is all. At that thought I walk at a normal pace towards my room, worried if I walk as quickly as I wish she will notice the difference in my gate. I may be running from her but I will not give her the satisfaction of actually watching me run.


	8. Chapter 8

1

When my brain finally gets out of neutral my first thought is 'Holy shit'. Cameron just admitted she wants me. It all comes crashing down on me then. Cameron wants, Cameron feels, Cameron dances, cooks, cries.. She is so beautiful when she cries.

How can this be? If she can feel then what? We're trying so hard to protect the human race for such qualities that have never been duplicated by a machine. But Cameron feels.

My heart is beating so fast as I struggle to grasp this foreign concept. It isn't right. But it is real. She, is real. I gulp. I feel lightheaded. I take deep breaths as I notice goose bumps have risen on my arms. My hands go to my face, covering my eyes, as if that will blind me from the knowledge I now possess. I rub my eyes as I feel the hot tears sting them in their wake. I'm so tired. I'm always on the edge. I just don't know how to deal with this, with her. I curl into the fetal position on the couch hugging myself.

She walks into the room and climbs on top of me as she pushes me down against the couch cushions, but I'm not afraid. I'm smiling and oddly so is she. Her hands run through my hair, across my face and down my neck, scorching me with the heat of her desire. My heart is beating so fast. If I died now I wouldn't care. She's leaning down to me. I know she is going to kiss me. Instead of recoiling, instead of pushing her away, I pull her forward.

Then I wake up.

"Mom!" John's standing above me. I take in my surroundings. Couch, living room, Cameron. It all comes flooding back as the dream is still fresh in my mind. But John is staring at me quizzically so I sit up.

"Yeah, sorry what?" I say as I rub the sleep out of my eyes.

"Nothing, I just though you might want to go sleep in your bed." And now he is avoiding looking at me all together. What the hell? Then I glance down. Oh yeah, underwear, white tank top, no bra. No boy wants to see their mom in such a state of undress. I smile at his discomfort.

"Yeah, you're right. But since I'm up I might as well stay that way." My amusement at John's obvious anxiousness disappears the moment Cameron walks in the room. Memories of last night and of my dreams flash through my mind and I grimace. Cameron stares at me as she always used to, with seeming indifference. I wonder what she is really thinking, feeling? I look away from her.

"Well, have a good day at school." I say, addressing John as I pad away to the bathroom to shower. By the time I am showered and dressed they are both gone, thankfully.

Throughout the day I did my best to not think about Cameron. I researched, I exercised, I even tried using the internet which I have almost zero knowledge of. But no matter what I was doing random images of Cameron kept popping into my head. Her sidling up to me while dancing. Her smiling. Her pouting. Her fighting. Her staring at me. Her following me like a puppy. Her touching me. And then it became fantasizing.

I was in the middle of thinking about a very interesting situation between Cameron and myself when she and John walked in. I couldn't decide between staring at her or staring at the floor. I instead tried to act like nothing was bothering me. John is a perceptive boy and I really don't need him learning of this situation.

John went to his room, ignoring me completely and then came back, minus his backpack. He headed towards the door.

"Where are you going?" I ask.

"The mall. Cameron isn't coming and don't send her to follow me. If I get into trouble I have a gun and my cell phone." And with that he left, slamming the door behind him.

I sigh. I hate when he puts me in this position. "Do you think you should follow him?" I ask Cameron, finally looking at her directly.

She paused as she thought about it. "No." She says finally. That was not the answer I thought I would get.

"You don't? Why?" I ask, the surprise showing in my tone of voice. After all she is programmed to protect John Connor.

"He will be the leader of the resistance. He needs to be independent to be able to act in that capacity. Following him also antagonizes him. If he needs anything he will call. If anything should happen John is smart and he will survive until we can assist him." Cameron explains, cocking her head sideways in that completely adorable way she has.

"Maybe I don't give him enough credit." I think out loud.

"Maybe." Cameron replies. She makes the move to leave the livingroom, heading to her bedroom I assume. I feel the need to stop her from leaving so jarringly that I can't help myself from blurting her name.

She stops and looks at me. Is that fear in her eyes? Trepidation?

"You were wrong when you said I don't care." I admit grudgingly. I don't know why I'm saying this. I know I shouldn't be. But then Cameron smiles, a real smile, one I haven't seen in quite a while, and it feels worth it.


	9. Chapter 9

1

I'm in my room, laying on my bed with my hands behind my head. This is how John lays on his bed when he is thinking. I've watched him for so long. I've watched her with more interest though. Sarah. She makes me feel things that I don't understand.

I know I want her. I've read the entire dictionary and I'm not sure if I am infatuated with her or in love with her. I'm not even sure if there is really that much difference between the two sentiments. Words are so limiting when trying to express ones feelings.

I decide to do research online. The internet contains much knowledge, practical and impractical. I google 'Love versus infatuation' and click on the first link. A quiz pops onto the screen. It has two columns of feelings in which one must correctly chose love or infatuation. This is not helpful for I do not understand the difference. I close the page and go to the next link. I scroll down the page.

'There are some feelings we have when infatuated that we don't have when we're feeling love. Some of the "symptoms" of infatuation are; feelings of panic, uncertainty, overpowering lust, feverish excitement, impatience, and/or jealously.

When infatuated, we are thrilled, but not happy, wanting to trust, yet suspicious. There are lingering, nagging doubts about our "partner in infatuation" and their love for us. We're miserable when they're away, almost like we're not complete unless we're with them. It's a rush and it's intense. It's difficult to concentrate. And most infatuation relationships have a high degree of sexual charge around them. Somehow being with them is not complete unless in ends in some type of sexual encounter.'

I felt panic and uncertainty when confessing my feelings to Sarah. Overpowering lust, yes I feel that often in her presence. I have not been jealous, impatient or had feverish excitement. I do not feel thrilled but I have experienced moments of happiness.

The memory of Sarah admitting she too felt something made me happy. I smile recalling it.

I do not understand the sentiment of being incomplete. I am a complete being. I was made that way as were most people unless they were born with a defect or hurt in some way. I have found it difficult to concentrate but only when I allow myself to, when the probability of danger is low. The last line of the paragraph convinces me I am not infatuated, though I do have certain symptoms. For I have never had a sexual encounter with Sarah and yet this feeling persists.

Unfortunately the rest of the page is unhelpful and does not explain the symptoms of love. It was helpful to explain infatuation however. So I google 'What is love?'

Love quotations, interesting.

"One word frees us of all the weight and pain of life: That word is love." - Sophocles

"Love is like quicksilver in the hand. Leave the fingers open and it stays. Clutch it, and it darts away." - Dorothy Parker

"Love is friendship set on fire." - unknown

"To be in love is merely to be in a state of perceptual anesthesia." - H.L. Mencken

"Love is like war: Easy to begin but hard to end." - Anonymous

It seems that everyone has a different perception as to what love is. The concept seems undefined. Maybe humans do not really know quite how to describe it either. The one quote that I understand completely is the last. Love is like war: Easy to begin but hard to end.

War I understand well. I did not seek to feel this. The feeling is just there. I did many diagnostics assuming it was a malfunction. Yet the feeling persists. I tried to make it end but it will not. One thing I understand is this. There is a beginning and an end to all things. It must be so with love as well. I must follow through with it. It will run it's course. It must. Though for some reason I cannot see a time in the future when I will stop wanting Sarah Connor.

I turn off the laptop and sit on my bed still in thought. If love is akin to war then love is a struggle. Sarah seems to be struggling. She did not admit to having feelings for me freely. I could tell she didn't want to admit it. So why did she? A moment of understanding dawns on me then. If love is like war then Sarah will fight it. She is a warrior, a fighter, and she does not like to lose. This is why she acts as she does. She does not want to love me. Maybe she does not know how, as I do not know how. The two of us, all we understand is war.

It is easy to fight a war when there is a foe you can destroy. Love is a concept and it has proven to be harder to kill. I am a terminator. It is what I am, it is what I do. And yet I have lost the war against love. It has beaten me. All I have to do is be patient and love will beat Sarah's will. She is strong but love may be stronger.

I feel better now that I have a basic understanding of what is happening. I love Sarah Connor. Now I just have to wait and see if she will allow herself to love me. It feels as though I am always waiting for her. I've determined I dislike waiting. I do not wish to think about this subject any longer. I try to ignore my thoughts as I get up to go and check the perimeter, as I often do.


	10. Chapter 10

1

Sarah hasn't been avoiding me which is odd and unexpected behaviour considering our last encounter. I am confused and yet also happy, mixed emotions are strange things. I continue to watch her as surreptitiously as I can. I know she can feel me watching her however and I have noticed her interest as I catch her watching me as well. Today is a day like any other and I am doing one of the things I enjoy most. I am watching her.

She is in her bedroom wearing her work out clothes, as John calls them. I always enjoy watching Sarah but when she is exercising I am even more rapt in my attention. I begin to analyze why that is. I believe it is a combination of many reasons. I enjoy when her hair is in a messy ponytail. I enjoy watching the muscles in her body ripple under the strain. I enjoy watching Sarah's body when she wears tank tops. I enjoy watching her body perspire and her breathing speed up. But most of all I enjoy Sarah's intensity and focus. I am thankful for that intensity and focus now, for she has yet to realize I am watching her.

Her facial expression changes to one of pain at the same time she emits a grunt. She rolls onto her back ceasing her pushups and grabs at her thigh immediately. Muscle spasm, I realize. I rush to her side and push her hands away from her thigh as I find the cause of her pain and begin rubbing in circular motions knowing soon her pain will cease and I will have to stop touching her, unfortunately. But as per usual Sarah's discomfort is at the forefront of my priorities. I look up from my task for a moment and Sarah is staring at me, the look on her face indescribable. Though she does not seem to be in any further pain I continue to rub her thigh somewhat more softly than before. She has not told me to discontinue my actions, I rationalize. She places her hand atop mine on her thigh but I continue touching her. I know it's irrational. I know that it is dangerous and could incur her anger but I continue. I realize then I have completely lost my objectivity in the case of Sarah Connor.

"Um, thanks Cameron." she says, her voice slightly lower than normal.

I look up once more and reply, "You're welcome Sarah." my voice also intoning at a somewhat lower level as well.

I have become sexually stimulated because of this situation and so has Sarah. Her physical reactions to me make it clear. I make a quick decision, without weighing out the why's and why not's, without the reasoning of should and should not as I lean forward and touch my lips to hers.

If I had a heartbeat I believe it would have stopped beating at that moment. My soft lips meshed with hers and it felt beautiful. It felt better then dancing or anything else I'd ever experienced. Sarah's first intake of breath when our lips touched is now my favourite sound. Beethoven has been relegated to second place.

Sarah pulls away from me and stares at me, in shock perhaps? Her anger is only moments away, I must try to diffuse it.

"I apologize if I've, pissed you off." I say haltingly. I will not apologize for kissing her because I know it is what we both wanted, even if she will never admit it.

"It's," she breaths out, "It's okay. I understand you have a crush on me." Sarah says.

Her face is flush and her chest is rising and falling rapidly. A small droplet of sweat is falling from her neck down her clavicle. Her lips quiver slightly and all I can think about is kissing her again. And because she said it was okay I proceed to lean in again and this time my passion is undeniable. I kiss her with fervor. I want her to know it's me, Cameron that is kissing her. I want her to know how she makes me feel. I just want her.

My lips are firm against hers and my hands are in her hair as I straddle her legs. I feel her hands cup my ass and her tongue press into my mouth. I believe I am feeling intoxicated. I cannot abuse alcohol or drugs and have that effect but I am drunk in the feeling of Sarah Connor.

She grabs my arms then and pushes me away. "I, we, can't do this." She gasps out.

"Why?" I ask, needing to understand her reasoning.

"We just can't." She states, her eyes now hard. She is still fighting this, fighting me. She gets up off of the floor and a few moments later I hear the shower turn on. I feel myself sobering from the kiss as I recall something a student said at school. 'Avoid hangovers, stay drunk.' If only I could, I think as I slowly stand up from the floor and exit her room. I go to my room and stand by the window as I replay the memory of our lips together over and over in my mind.


	11. Chapter 11

1

I'm so tired. My body is tired and my mind is tired. Why can't I sleep? That's easy. Cameron. I keep remembering her straddling me on the floor, kissing the breath right out of me. I remember the feel of her tight jeans over her tight ass. Oh dear god. Since when am I attracted to, what? A cybernetic organism? I keep trying to figure out what it is about her.

She protects John and I and has saved my life on more than one occasion. I know it's just her programming, to keep us safe. But now that I know she actually cares about me I wonder how much of her actions are programmed and how much is free will? Out of all the things that could've happened to me in my lifetime I really never planned for this eventuality. I want to fuck a robot. I snort as the thought crosses my mind. I rub my forehead and face trying to ease the tension that has settled there. What a ludicrous idea.

I sit up in bed, giving up on sleep. Counting sheep doesn't work. Counting terminators works even less well. I thought I could deal with any situation that was thrown at me. I thought it was so simple. If it's a terminator it's evil, destroy it, protect John.

Now what the hell am I going to do? I live with a terminator that is programmed to protect John and I. I live with a terminator that has a crush on me. I live with a terminator that looks like a beautiful ballerina, even on a bad day.

I can't possibly do what I've been thinking of doing. I can't possibly just let it happen. There are so many reasons why I shouldn't, can't. Cameron isn't human. Cameron is a machine for Christ's sake! No matter how much I want to, I know that it would be completely wrong. Terminators are the reason my life, my sons life, is a constant struggle. Terminators are the reason I can't sleep at night.

The other voice, my devils advocate, pipes up needing to be heard.

'It's so easy to pin all of your hate and frustration onto Cameron's slender shoulders, isn't it?'

'Yes it is!' I agree silently with myself.

'It's not her fault she exists. People are the ones that created her kind. Humanity destroys itself.'

I sigh. This is insane. Maybe I really should still be in that institution. But I have to concede to that point. Cameron wouldn't be here without the people that created Skynet. Cameron had no choice in being built, just as John had no choice in being born, just as I have no choice.

I can't help but want her. I want something of my own for once. I want something, someone, that wants me. I want someone that understands what I go through every damn day. Cameron knows everything. She knows who I am, why I fight, about judgement day. She will never balk at what the future holds. She IS that future.

How can I resist her? Now that I know she wants me and feels, cares? Now that I know what her lips and body feel like pressed against mine..

It's close to five in the morning. I might as well go make some coffee and sit outside to watch the sunrise. I know Cameron will follow me. What's worse is that I want her to. I hate to admit it, but I enjoy her company.

I can feel the war inside myself still raging as I get up to change my clothes. I can feel that I'm losing pieces of myself as I wait for the coffee to percolate. Cameron walks silently out onto the porch and sits beside me as the mornings first rays of sun shine off her hair like fire. That's when I realize that this is one battle I might not be able to win.

Shit.


	12. Chapter 12

1

Sarah hasn't slept, though she was in her bed most of the night. I could hear her breathing and could tell she wasn't asleep. She got up at 5:32 in the morning. I saw her when she entered the kitchen and even if I hadn't heard her breathing patterns the dark circles under her eyes would have told me all I needed to know.

I know she has nightmares. John knows she has nightmares. But Sarah never speaks of them. Some things are private, John said. I wonder if her nightmares kept her awake or if like me, she can't help but replay our earlier interaction over and over again in her mind.

I watch her make coffee. I stare at her shoulders and neck as she lets her head fall forward, her wild hair hanging loosely covering her face. She looks tense. She picks up her favourite coffee mug and turns around so she is facing me, leaning back against the kitchen counter. She knows I'm here but she hasn't acknowledged it. She hasn't looked at me, yet. She lifts the mug to her lips and just smells it briefly, a tired smile arising on her features.

My own lips quirk upwards, barely perceptible, as I watch her. Why is it that everything she does holds such interest for me? I almost don't care as I watch her lips wrap around the mug as she takes her first sip.

She looks up and directly at me. I had hoped she wouldn't go back to ignoring me. It looks like she hasn't. Sarah's body language has many subtle nuances that in the beginning I did not quite grasp the meaning of. Now however, I have known her much longer and can accurately understand the meaning of most of her looks. Even in her silence she speaks to me.

She walks to the front door and goes out on the porch. She didn't speak to me, but she looked at me. That could mean she wants my company but does not wish to ask for it. Or maybe it is my own 'wishful thinking'. Either way I follow her path. I sit beside her, not too close, on the front step. She is staring into the distance.

"What are you looking at Sarah?" I ask, even though I know. I just wanted to say her name. I just wanted her to hear me say it.

"I'm waiting for the sun to rise." She states softly.

We sit silently for a few more moments till I speak once more.

"Most people watch sunrises because they find them esthetically pleasing."

"Yes." She responds.

"But you look at sunrises and think of Judgement day."

She looks at me sharply then, her eyes holding their full intensity that I love. She says nothing.

"Am I right?" I ask, smiling softly at her.

"How did you know?" She asks instead, sighing.

I take a chance and rest my hand on her knee, forcing her to look into my eyes.

"Because, I know you." I state simply.

I believe Sarah is experiencing mixed emotions as I watch her eyes blink back tears. She says nothing else and looks back towards the sunrise which has now just broken across the horizon. She rests her left hand on top of my right, which is still on her knee. I watch the hues of orange, red, and blue touch the sky and I smile. After all, I am touching Sarah Connor, and she is touching me.


	13. Chapter 13

1

John's out. He's been staying out much more often. He is spending his time with a girl from school. Sarah is on edge though she still allows casual body contact from me. I am glad. I should be out following John and making sure he is safe. But John must learn to be self sufficient, a leader, and he must learn to make his own decisions. I wonder if my programming has become flawed. Sarah enters the living room then.

"Watching T.V.?" she asks as she stands beside the couch.

"Not really." I answer.

"Nothing interesting on?" She continues, sitting beside me on the couch beginning to focus on the television program playing.

I look at her wide eyed. Why would I want to watch television when I can watch her? She is much more interesting.

"No." I say simply. She reaches across me and grabs the remote from my lap. She sits back and begins to change the channel repeatedly looking for something of interest. I continue to watch her, not glancing toward the television once. I know I am being conspicuous but I don't care. I want to kiss Sarah again. The memory of our last kiss began replaying in my mind as she reached for the remote.

"Cameron." Sarah said, her eyes still focused on the screen.

"Yes?" I answer.

"Watch the T.V." She mutters her cheeks flushing.

I turn to watch the screen and sit there pouting. I had observed a girl at school trying to manipulate her boyfriend by pouting. It seemed appropriate for some reason. I watch the screen, as ordered. The channel stops changing and we sit silently watching the discovery channel.

"Cameron." Sarah says, while I watch a primate care for its young.

"What?" I reply, still staring at the screen.

"Look at me." I do as ordered, gladly.

"I shouldn't order you around so much. Do what you want, ok?" She asks patting my knee and smiling in an apologetic fashion.

"Ok." I say, immediately leaning forward to touch my lips to hers.

"What do you think your doing?" She asks as she pulls away.

"What I want." I say as I straddle her again, mimicking our last encounter. "Touch me." this time it is I who is ordering her. And as I obeyed, so does she. I feel Sarah's hands sliding up the back of my thighs as she cups my ass. I so enjoy the feel of her hands, no matter where the touch. I lean down to kiss her again. She fully participates this time. Our mouths join and release over and over. I love the sound of her gasps for air. A scream from the television filters through the room startling Sarah enough that she pushes me away from her. I do not wish to stop the current activity.

"Turn it off." I say, referring to the television as I try to sidle closer to her on the couch.

"No, we should stop." she says looking at me like I'm a threat. Maybe I am. I smile my most seductive smile.

"No, we should proceed." I say sweetly.

"Cameron." Sarah says, a warning held in her tone.

"Sarah." I reply, a teasing quality to mine. I must convince her.

Just as I was sure she was going to allow me to continue kissing her John bursts into the house. Sarah immediately looks back to the television. I follow her example and do the same. John enters the livingroom and notices us.

"What are you guys watching?" he asks, his face holding some suspicion.

"The discovery channel." I reply.

"Okay." He replies looking back and forth between Sarah and I, a quizzical look on his face. "I'm going to bed." he says then, trudging towards his bedroom.

"Goodnight John." I call to him.

"Goodnight." Sarah's hoarse voice follows.

Ten minutes later Sarah has said nothing. I have not endeavored to speak to her either. She gets up then and leans over towards my ear.

"Fifteen minutes, my bedroom, be discreet." She whispers. Then just as quickly as her body was in my space, it was not. She goes to her room. I sit there staring at the television screen as the primates begin mating, my mind timing down the seconds till fifteen minutes goes by. I smile then, not the least bit discreetly.


	14. Chapter 14

I hear the soft knock on my bedroom door. Precisely fifteen minutes I would wager. I know her well. It's kind of funny to say I know a terminator well, but I do. I understand her and what's worse is that she understands me.

I've been sitting here, on my bed, for the last fifteen minutes contemplating why exactly I told her to come to my room. Am I once again going to try and explain to her the reasons why this can't happen? Or am I going to give up fighting and surrender to the fact that the reasons don't really matter. We, she and I, are happening nonetheless.

I am completely torn. Oh how I long to give in, to finally just stop, to find some kind of solace, even if it's in her arms. But I've been fighting far too long and I don't think I know how to stop. Another problem is that I know she won't stop, maybe she can't stop. Whatever her feelings are for me, they are hers and she does feel them.

The door opens and she steps in, shutting it quietly behind her. There is a curiosity in her eyes as she looks at my obviously forlorn face. The tears on my face haven't yet dried. A few weeks ago I would never have shown weakness like this in front of anyone, let alone her. Now though, there's nothing left for me to hide.

She sees my distress and approaches me cautiously as though she thinks I will push her away. Then again I always push her away so why wouldn't she think that? I sniff and smile a self-mocking smile.

She kneels in front of me and puts her hands on mine, those big doe eyes looking up at me.

"What is it?" she asks, almost in a whisper.

"I," my voice breaks. "I don't know what to do." Tears threaten to envelop my body once more as I begin to shake. I do my best to hold on to what little strength I have left. I feel it's been sapped from me fully.

"Explain." Cameron orders, though it comes out sounding more like plea.

"Don't you understand Cameron? We both want what we can't have!"

I can see that she does understand. "Why can't we?" she asks innocently. I sigh. "At school we are deconstructing Shakespeare's Romeo and Juliet. Have you read it?"

"Not since high school." I respond as numbness settles atop my emotions like a blanket.

"It's a tragedy. Two people who love each other and yet by societal standards can never be together."

"I see where you're going with this Cameron but we are not Romeo and Juliet, and even if we were don't you recall it ends in death?"

"Yes I recall, however you are right. We aren't Romeo and Juliet. We are Sarah and Cameron. You and I are much smarter than two fictional characters in a play."

I laugh then. She can still make me laugh even when all I want to do is crawl into my bed and cry. I lay my hand on her cheek and feel its warmth. She closes her eyes.

"Please Sarah, stop fighting this. This is one struggle neither of us can win." She whispers, a single tear falling from her eye.

"But.."

"Romeo and Juliet did die but they also had the courage to allow themselves to feel." She says, her gaze now boring into mine. My breathing becomes faster as I try to keep my own emotions at bay. She continues to speak.

"Sarah, you face death every day. Your courage is remarkable. Can you face this? Can you face me?"


	15. Chapter 15

1

Could she? Would she? Cameron wondered. She had finally said what she'd been feeling. It took so long to even understand what it was she had been feeling, to discern one emotion from another. And just within that last moment of conversation she'd figured out how to express it with the right words. At least she hoped they were right.

She let the moment stand, saying nothing, waiting for Sarah's answer. Waiting for the inevitable. Waiting to hear Sarah say, "We can't" once more. Waiting for Sarah. Waiting, afraid to move. Instead she stared at Sarah's face, her eyes, seeing the obvious struggle going on behind them. Cameron had never wanted anything for herself. She had been programmed to kill, so she killed. She had been programmed to protect, so she had protected. She had never been programmed for this.

"Sarah, I.." Cameron began, but was interrupted by Sarah. Suddenly Sarah was pulling Cameron close and their mouths met like waves to the shore, like the sun to the horizon.

Sarah was devouring Cameron as tears drenched her beautiful face. She maneuvered Cam onto the bed while climbing to straddle her waist. She began divesting Cameron of her pants without any pause in the continuous kiss they shared.

Sarah's movements were frenzied Cameron noted, however Cameron understood the pace and her body matched it perfectly. She wanted nothing more than to feel all of Sarah's body, all of her skin, pressed against her. The welcoming heat of her body. The taste of Sarah's tears. Cameron wanted it all.

Sarah groans as their nakedness finally meets. Cameron leans up to bite Sarah's shoulder. She wants more than anything to please Sarah and concurrently nothing pleases Cameron more.

The look on Sarah's face makes Cameron think of a person tortured. Cameron has tortured enough people to recognize the expression. She does not want Sarah to make that face, to feel torment, but she doesn't know how to change it.

"Sarah." Cameron says with a clear voice. Sarah ignores her, continuing to touch Cameron's body boldly.

"Sarah, stop." Cameron commands. She could have easily forced Sarah off of her but she wants Sarah to hear her. She needs Sarah to hear her.

Sarah did hear, "Why?" she asks brokenly.

"Isn't this what you wanted?" Sarah roughly grabs Cameron's breast. Cameron stays still and silent.

"Isn't it?" Sarah asks, her voice breaking.

"I wanted you to let me love you Sarah. I wanted you to let yourself love me." Cameron said as she reached up to cup Sarah's cheek in her hand.

Sarah's body began to shake as she collapsed into great wracking sobs on top of Cameron. Cameron wanted to cry as well. She wanted to cry for Sarah, for herself. She'd just figured out why Sarah couldn't love her. Sarah didn't love herself.

Cameron didn't cry however. She needed to be strong for Sarah, so she was. She held the shaking woman in her arms until her tears ran dry and she slept. She readjusted them both to better cradle Sarah in her arms. Only when she knew Sarah was sleeping deeply did Cameron finally allow herself to cry. Sarah was right all along. They both want what they can't have.

The End

Note: Thanks to everyone that read and reviewed. I hope you all aren't too pissed off with the way it ended. I never promised a happy ending though! ;)


End file.
